


Pretty Young Thing

by fringewrites



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Boss/Employee Relationship, Flirting, M/M, Office Sex, Oral Sex, Rimming, Seduction, Sexual Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 07:19:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11504445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fringewrites/pseuds/fringewrites
Summary: Jack thinks he knows why Arin doesn't jokingly sexually harass him quite the same way he does everyone else in the office.





	Pretty Young Thing

Jack can’t deny that working for the grumps is a surreal experience, unlike any he’s ever had. No one understands the complete culture shock better than Kevin, and boy do Jack and Kevin share a good laugh over it when they can. It’s a strange limbo that the two of them are in as two of the newest members of the ensemble, two people without former experience in the greater youtube let’s-play community to fall back on. Everything is precarious and often it feels like they’re totally winging it, but so long as everything’s still being met with roaring success, they’ll keep rolling with the punches. They can’t say they aren’t having fun with it.

“Yeah, I can’t say I ever thought I’d be okay with one of my bosses gushing over the internet about wanting to bend me over a table and take me to friskotown, but here I am.” Kevin laughs behind another sip of his Guinness as he sits across from Jack at the table within the communal office space. That’s another thing neither of them anticipated, being encouraged to drink at work.

“You get that too, aye?” Jack asks with a goofy smile, eyes staring down the bottom of his nearly empty glass. Jack’s more than clear on the flirtatious humor that litters the office. At first he thought it was just something that existed between Arin and Dan, the kind of thing that stems from being around each other 24/7 for four years, from being as close as they are, but he finds it extends to everyone. Once you’re part of the family, you’re in. Whether it’s Dan gently massaging Kevin’s shoulder, or threatening to pee in Vernon’s mouth, or Brian threatening Dan with a beej on the near daily, there’s a running gag in the office he’s quickly becoming way too accustomed to.

“Bro, constantly.” Kevin confirms with a clumsy nod of his head that makes a burp tumble out of the pit of his stomach. They boy’s a disaster of a drunk, the littlest movements sending him spinning, it’s actually really funny to watch given that Jack’s barely tipsy. “Wh-what do they say to you? They…they talk about plunderin’ that Irish mouth of yours?” Kevin asks question trailing off into a dry fit of giggles at his own failed attempt at an Irish accent. Jack laughs and reaches across the table, trying to steady his friend with a firm hand on his shoulder, but Kevin still ends up, head rested on the table, looking up at him expectantly.

Jack thinks a moment, tries to recall any inappropriate comments steered in his direction. He feels like there’s got to be something there to recall, but he comes up short. His mind wanders to times when he could feel himself laughing off tension, face going a bit pink from something someone did or said. He remembers a few times that Dan or Arin have just leered at him as he’s worked. Arin might have tossed the odd wolf whistle his way. He remembers a couple times he’d filmed something for Suzy and she started to look lost, staring off camera, mid-sentence off the rails in some kind of day dream. He’d snapped his fingers asking _“Suze?”_ to which she laughed, apologizing. _“Sorry about that, got kind of lost in your eyes there.”_ She had admitted, pushing her hair out of her face, trying to clear her mind for the second take.

“They call me pretty.” Jack finally remembers out loud after a while. Kevin hums questioningly as though he’s already forgotten what they’d been talking about. “Yeah man! S’pretty this, pretty that.” He remembers Arin calling him to a desk once to look over an edit with a head tossed in his own direction “Here, Pretty boy.” Jack imitates Arin for Kevin. “One time, Dan called me the hired eye candy.” He laughs, pushing his hair back and looking at his own warped reflection in the glass he’s holding.

“Mmm, you’re pretty. That’s funny.” Kevin sings happily, trying and failing to reach across the table to boop Jack’s nose. “S’ different than the way they talk about me…or Vernon. They call me the twink. They call Vernon the office toy. S’almost like they’re not even joking about you.” Kevin slurs giddily before his face goes a bit green. “Dude, I think I’m gonna throw up.” He whimpers and just like that Jack is on his feet, trying to help Kevin up to the bathroom.

“There, there, buddy, I gotcha.” He tells him reassuringly as the two slow walk through the empty Grump space, two sides of the same coin, except now Jack feels just a bit more on the outside than Kevin.

The idea sticks with Jack longer than he intends it to. Jack is usually one to shake something off before he can let it bother him, but he stays up that night, replaying those encounters in his head. He starts to wonder if he and the rest of the Grumps just aren’t good enough friends for them to seriously pick on him the way they do each other and it makes him feel strange, sad almost. He can’t believe he’s sitting in his bed actually wishing his friends and co-workers would sexually harass him. He spends too long tossing and turning over it, and in retrospect, he thinks that lack of sleep makes him do something stupid the next day.

To be fair, Jack really did need to organize his desk, and that included the system of wires hooked up underneath it. He’s sat on the floor on his knees. More accurately he’s bent over, crawling into the space beneath his desk, blowing out dust from between the wires hooked into the base of plugs hooked up to the extension cord taped down along the floor as it winds toward the far wall. His chair is cast aside and Jack may or may not be actively putting a slight arch in his back as he works at untangling the cord to his CPU from the cords to various other objects. He feels a little ridiculous, he can feel the tension building at the base of his spine, and he begins to realize how stupid he’s being, that none of this is worth trying to entice some kind of humor out of his coworkers.

Of course, then he hears Dan snicker behind him. “Whatcha doing there Jackie?” Dan asks sounding a little eager and Jack can’t help but smile to himself, thinking he’s hooked one. Jack is careful to avoid hitting his head as he comes up from under his desk, sitting on his knees, still putting that nice s-curve into his back as he looks up at Dan.

“Oh, just organizing some stuff under my desk. It’s a real mess down here.” Jack answers nonchalantly, pushing his long black hair out of his face. “You got a hair tie I can use? It’s really getting in my way.” Jack asks, thankful that there’s a good chance that any one of his male co-workers might be carrying one at a moment’s notice.

Dan’s got a big toothy grin on his face and Jack’s bracing himself for some kind of comment he can’t hope to anticipate, not being able to imagine where Dan could take that. “Oh _I_ don’t.” Dan answers, “But I know _Arin_ does.” Dan nods toward Arin, and when Jack looks back at him, Arin’s leaned over Matt’s nearby desk, face buried in his screen as Matt eyes him semi-skeptically, as though he’s not sure why he’s there. “Don’t you Arin?” Dan asks a little more loudly and Jack watches Arin’s eyes pinch shut as his head sinks a bit before he looks up at Dan, mouth a tight line like he’s a bit annoyed.

“Yeah, I got one.” Arin confesses, standing up straight and pulling a black elastic hair tie from around his wrist.  Arin pulls the band taut against his index finger with his other hand when Dan stops him.

“Nah dude! Don’t fling it! That’s rude! Just come here and hand it to him, is that so hard?” Dan teases Arin with a laugh and Arin can’t help but smile as he huffs and rolls his eyes. Jack feels a little bad as he watches Arin cross the room and offer the hair tie to Jack.

Jack smiles up shyly at Arin as he reaches to take the hair tie from Arin. Their fingers brush as Jack takes it and he thinks he catches the tiniest recoil from Arin, just a fraction of a second long, short enough that he thinks he might have imagined it. “Thank you, Arin.” He says earnestly as he begins pulling his hair back, not tearing his eyes from Arin as he ties it up, trying to understand why Arin’s acting so weird about lending him a hair tie, and why Dan looks like his face is about to freeze in a permanent joker grin as he watches Arin.

Jack certainly doesn’t miss the way Arin’s tongue darts out fast over his lips. “Uh…yeah man, no problem.” He finally answers after a long pause and it’s like Jack can see Suzy reflected in Arin’s face then. That long lost stare before the both of them go a bit red and look away, and then he thinks he knows for sure. He smiles up at Arin as he finishes tying his hair up, he runs his hand over his bare neck and leans back into the touch with a pleased moan and Arin lets out a nervous laugh turning to walk away.

Feeling like he’s gained some important intel Jack returns to his busy work under his desk, resuming his pose when he hears another laugh from Dan as he and Arin get further away. “Dude you’re fucking nasty.” Dan teases and Jack can hear something like Arin landing a slap against Dan’s chest as he grumbles quietly at him to shut up. There’s no guarantee that it’s about him, but his intuition is gnawing at him now. He can’t fight this giddiness threatening to expand in his chest, inflating his ego. He thinks he gets it now, why he’s different from everyone else, he just needs to make sure now.

The day comes and goes before Jack makes his move. He plans it out in his head, runs through all the different scenarios, how it can all go wrong and how it can all go so right. Whatever he imagines, he doesn’t let himself talk himself out of it. It’s a keen talent of Jack’s to chase what he wants without hesitation, it’s the drive that sent him all the way out here to L.A. and it’s what’s going to carry him through to tomorrow.

Jack’s a quiet presence in the office the next day. He mills about those first few hours, working as usual, organizing game schedules on the white board and filtering through the inbox on his computer. There’s a nervous buzzing in his brain as he scans the digital clock at the lower right corner of his monitor. He’s not sure what time he thinks is the right time, it’ll be more of a feeling, more dependent on Arin sinking into his private office for a bit, on everyone else making themselves busy with some other task. It’s roughly four in the evening before then, and any and all nerves Jack may have had have faded with his sheer desire to just do the damn thing.

Jack slinks through the grump space, there’s not really anyone around to avoid as he makes his way to Arin’s closed office door. Jack taps lightly against the wood with his knuckle and calls for Arin against the door. “C’mon in Jack.” Arin’s response is muffled behind the door, but it’s clear and inviting.  Jack opens the door just a fraction, enough to slip his body through before he closes the door carefully and quietly behind him. When he finally looks over to Arin, he’s sat behind his desk leaned casually back against his office chair, gaze fixed on Jack, waiting for him to speak.

“Uh…Arin?” Jack begins, clearing his throat. His posture is kind of meek, as he shuffles closer, playing at making himself kind of small.

“Yeah, Jack?” Arin asks, eyebrows knitting, leaning forward on his elbows, starting to look concerned.

“There’s something that’s been on my mind that I’ve kind of wanted to ask you about, it’s nothing really, just a thought I guess.” Jack downplays it but Arin’s clearly listening carefully so Jack just takes the plunge. "Arin...Did you hire me because of my looks?" he asks almost sounding too serious as he approaches Arin.

"J-Jack, no. You're crazy talented and you contribute so much..." he begins, thinking somehow he's hit a nerve with Jack. Sure, Jack’s been becoming more popular on their various social media outlets, he’s a natural charmer with good looks, but it’s far from the reason Arin hired him. Jack is more than just fan bait. “I-I’m sorry if the jokes have gone too far buddy. I mean, you know how it is, I think if we’re close that means we can joke around like that but if you’re not cool with it, I’m really sorry.” He stumbles through his apologies, he feels really shitty, he hates to feel like he made Jack uncomfortable, he cares about him so much and he doesn’t want to ruin their friendship.

“You haven’t made me uncomfortable, Arin.” Jack interrupts him, trying to reassure him with a smile. “Y’know…actually I noticed, you don’t really joke with me at all do you? Not like the others.” Jack points out and then Arin’s really confused, getting whiplash from how quickly Jack could have gone from meek to smiling at him like that so fast. Jack has a way of making Arin dizzy. He waits for him to explain. “You call me pretty boy, but you don’t hit on me, not like you do with Dan, or Vernon, or Ross, or everyone else. At first…I was worried you didn’t like me as much as you like them.” Jack expresses honestly.

“Jack-no,” Arin attempts to explain, but Jack is stopping him as he slides slowly passed the side of Arin’s desk, getting closer to him and Arin can feel his ears getting hot.

“But I realized it’s gotta be the opposite right? You don’t joke about wanting to fuck me because it’s not funny to you is it? It’s cause you like me. You actually like me a lot. Don’t you Arin?” Jack asks, voice low and smooth as he lays out his latest pet theory. Jack’s playing it cool, smiling at Arin as he closes in, acting a little cocky even though his heart is beating fast as he waits for Arin to react, to tell him he’s wrong or he’s right or something.

Arin’s face is beet red at this point. His breathing is heavy and his eyes dart about, falling all over the angles of Jack’s face and along his chest, trying to find some kind of answer in him, some way to deflect or explain himself. He wants to kick himself for being so obvious about his little office crush. “I-um-I…Jack…I’m…” he can’t make the words come out, can’t apologize or back down, he feels pinned between Jack and his office chair, and then suddenly he is. Suddenly Jack is boxing Arin into his chair, hands gripping the arm rests on either side of him as he stares into his eyes, cloudy with some kind of hunger.

"You think I'm pretty Arin?" he asks in a low husky voice.

Arin swallows hard. "Yeah..Jack...you're pretty." he answers softly, face reddening impossibly, unsure what Jack's playing at here until he watches Jack sink to his knees on the carpeted floor.

"How 'bout like this? Still pretty?" he asks running his hands up and down Arin's thighs and Arin doesn't know how to respond. He thought this might have been a joke up until he feels the tips of Jack's fingers slide feather light over his jean-clad chub, and there’s no way Jack would take a joke this far. Arin swallows hard as he feels his tense body shivering into Jack’s teasing strokes. Jack looks amazing, sat all lithe and lean on his knees as he runs those long fingers he’s dreamed of over Arin’s legs. Jack is beyond pretty, he’s a fucking masterpiece.

"F-fuck. Yeah Jack. You look pretty like that." Arin finally manages, pushing the envelope back at him a bit and he sees that sly smile split Jack's face.

"Yeah? This wasn't in the job description in the offer letter you sent me, but I’ve got a feeling it's what you wanted from me. Right, Boss? You wanted me down here for you?" he asks popping Arin's button and pulling down his fly, opening up his jeans. Arin’s mind reels at the way Jack plays up the intern card, highlighting the professional dynamics between the two of them. It sends a searing heat through his body, settling low in his stomach.

"Jack...I..." he stutters, not sure if he’s trying to protest or encourage Jack.

"You hired me cause I'm _talented_ right?” Jack asks, mocking Arin’s praises from just moments before. “Let me show you my talents."

 Arin is surprised as he voluntarily lifts his hips for Jack as he starts pulling his jeans and boxers down his thighs in one go. He can't believe he's letting it go this far, that he's letting Jack expose him like this, in his office, where anyone can walk in and catch them. It's not as though Arin had never contemplated office sex in some regard, it lived as a little power fantasy popping up in the occasional jerk off session back at his house after a late night cooped up at work. His mind cycled through fellow co-workers, never being able to settle on just one. In retrospect he knows Jack had to have been in some of them,  as both the one he fucked and the one who overheard him fucking somebody, now he can't believe it wasn't always Jack over his desk in his dark fantasy, that he didn't fucking get off to the thought all the time. Especially with his rapidly growing crush on him. With the reality in front of him it seems impossible to resist.

Arin feels indecent as the cool air conditioning breezes over his bare thighs and his hard cock. He can feel the backs of his thighs sticking already to the leather upholstery of his office chair. His jeans are bunched up over his ankles, his legs are spread as far as they can get with Jack wedged between them, hands on Arin's knees to hold him open. Arin's never been particularly self-conscious about his dick, the D-club did a good job of desensitizing him to that kind of thing, but under Jack's lasting gaze he can't help but to feel partially judged. He wants Jack to like what he sees, wants him to be into him the way he’s into Jack. He feels a wave of relief as he watches Jack's tongue dart out over his lips approvingly.

"God, can't wait for you to choke me with that thing." Jack tells him huskily. Arin moans weakly, knees buckling at Jack's words alone. He nearly gets whiplash as his neck gives out, head falling back against the cushion of his chair when he feels Jack's lips close around the head of his dick, tongue swirling and teasing at his slit. His fingernails scrabble for purchase against the arm rests as he feels Jack slowly sink the rest of his mouth down on Arin's shaft. Arin looks down and he can't believe Jack's really here in front of him, that he's actually feeling the heat of Jack's face getting close to his groin as he sinks lower, his hair tickling his thighs before he draws back, and bobs his head again. Jack pulls off then and looks up at Arin. "You can hold my hair back. I know you wanna watch me." he instructs Arin and god Arin does.

He doesn't hesitate to collect those inky black strands in the ball of his fist, holding it tight at the base of Jack's skull so he can see all of Jack's pretty angular features as he blows him. Like this he can see Jack's pretty pink lips wrapped around his flush cock and actually being able to see the connection between them is driving him fucking _wild_. It's making his stomach do flips as he watches the boy start to speed up a bit, bobbing his head up and down, taking more of Arin with each pass. Arin loses it when he watches Jack's nose touch down at the base of his cock, his lips pressed flush against him, adam's apple bobbing up and down as his hot, narrow throat swallows around him. His eyes squeeze shut tight and he lets out a low, guttural _"God."_ fingernails scraping the surface of Jack's scalp where their holding his hair in a tight makeshift bun.

 Jack pulls off tantalizingly slow, tongue dancing against the underside of his shaft. He takes a deep gasping breath. "Keep watching me." he reminds Arin, and as Arin looks down he sees the long line of spit connecting Jack's lips to his cock, and his whole body shivers at the sight. It’s intense how Jack can play his body so delicious and skilled like an instrument with a single look.

"God you're fucking beautiful Jack," he confesses breathlessly. "So fucking gorgeous like this." Jack sinks down, taking Arin to his base, moaning languidly along his shaft at the compliment. Jack always took Arin’s compliments toward his appearance in stride before he realized the weight behind them. Now he glows at Arin’s praise, doubling his efforts, making the most lewd noises as he swallows around his boss’ thick cock, drawing a breathy curse from the man above him.

It’s been a long time since Jack’s been in this position. He’s forgotten how much he enjoys the intoxicating sense of power he feels giving his partner this immense pleasure. He can feel his body getting worked up at the sensation of Arin filling his throat, his own drool dribbling down his chin as he tries to keep up with the micro-thrusts Arin’s hips make bouncing off his office chair. He loves knowing that he can make Arin so out of control that he’s canting his hips up and whimpering apologies as Jack makes tiny choked sounds. It’s endearing how concerned Arin is for him when he’s getting his dick sucked so good.

Jack pulls off Arin for a moment, holding his thighs down to keep him from moving back in too fast. He’s panting as he wipes the drool from his chin. “Stand up.” Jack instructs breathlessly. “Want you to fuck my face.” God it’s been awhile since he’s done that too, but Arin has Jack feeling ambitious, has him wanting to be used and idolized all at once.

Arin is shaky as he rises to his feet, bracing his hands against the arm rests of his chair to help him up. “Fuck, Jack, you’re gonna fucking kill me with that filthy mouth of yours.” Arin’s breath comes out hot, it feels like his whole body is on fire. He recollects Jack’s hair messily into his fist as he pulls Jack’s face back in to meet his cock. Jack obliges immediately, opening his mouth wide, ready to accept the pace Arin sets for them, relinquishing all control.  

Arin starts by fucking his mouth shallowly and slowly. It’s painfully difficult not to just grab him by the sides of his head and fuck his face hard after how much Jack’s worked him up, but he wants to give Jack time to get used to it. Jack’s throat slowly starts to open up, his jaw getting used to being stretched so wide. He lets his tongue dance along the underside of Arin’s shaft as he starts sinking deep into the back of Jack’s throat and lingering there a little longer with each thrust.

The room starts to fill with the wet, vulgar sounds of Arin’s cock hitting the back of Jack’s throat as he starts to fuck into his wanting mouth faster and faster. Arin can hardly contain the strangled moans that pound out of him every time he hits that velvet smooth passage. Arin can feel his whole body getting tense as his impending climax starts to overwhelm him. He wants to hold out, he want sot make this last forever, where he’s alone with Jack and can have this with him, but Jack’s mouth is so soft and hot and tight and his tongue is so perfect that he can’t help himself. He looks down and his eyes meet Jack’s, deep blue and watering at the corners as Arin fucks his face and he feels that heat wave. “Fuck, gonna come on that pretty face Jack. That okay?” he finds himself asking permission for his deep lewd desire and Jack moans approvingly around him.  Arin’s resolve breaks completely in those final few thrusts. He pulls out with a low growl and as he holds the base of his cock he can feel himself pulsing beneath his fevered skin, coming in thick ropes over Jack’s cheeks and chin and open mouth, across his beautiful pink tongue.  He wants to watch but his eyes keep squeezing shut with the force of his orgasm.

When Arin collects himself, he drinks in the image of Jack, all wet and messy with his come, licking it off his lips so deliciously. “Up.” Arin moans his instruction and Jack is quick to his feet even though his knees ache from digging into the hard carpeted floor. Arin collects some of his own come from Jack’s chin onto his thumb and presses it into Jack’s mouth where his tongue swirls around the soft pad of it, licking it clean. If Arin had the energy to come again at the sight, he would. He pulls Jack into their first kiss. It’s odd to think of it as their first kiss, that it happens not softly or romantically, but eager and desperate, all teeth and tongue and heat. He can taste himself bitter inside Jack’s mouth and it makes it that much more electric.

Arin hoists Jack up by the backs of his thighs and sits him on top of his desk as the younger man moans into their kiss in surprise. Arin’s fingers fumble with the button of Jack’s pants. He’s clumsy, hot and needy as he nearly breaks the zipper pulling it down. Jack relishes in the underlying strength in Arin’s movements, how easily he could bruise Jack with his touch. Arin tears Jack’s jeans down his thighs with his boxer briefs, pulling Jack’s shoes off as he works them off his legs, leaving him bare from the waist down in the middle of his office. It hits him again what a maniacal idea this all is, but he can’t stop himself, he’s not pressing the gas so much as cruising on the momentum, careening down a cliff.

Arin pulls Jack’s body down by his hips and Jack let’s out a sharp, startled “Fuck” as his back meets the cold surface of the desk, his hips and legs dangling off the edge precariously where Arin holds them.  Arin opens Jack’s legs wide his thumbs dig into the dip beside his hip bones, pressing and rubbing in circles, earning a soft moan from Jack. “God, your dick is beautiful. How is every part of you so fucking sexy Jack?” Arin moans, and before Jack can answer, Arin’s mouth descends on him, licking a long stripe up the underside of his cock. Jack tosses his head back against the hard wooden surface, he tries to make his moan come out a low whimper but it’s hard to contain himself, he’s so hard he’s leaking already. He can’t believe the hold Arin has over him.

Jack prepares himself for Arin to start sucking him off. He’s ready to feel enveloped by that tight heat, to get lost in the wet pleasure of Arin’s mouth, but Arin has a different notion in going about that. Arin’s fingers knead the backs of Jack’s thighs as he pushes his legs up, bending them at the knees. Like this, Jack’s pink hole is exposed to him. Arin licks a broad stripe on his puckered entrance and it’s all Jack can do not to shout at the electric pleasure that runs up his spine. He hadn’t been expecting Arin to rim him, but god he can’t imagine anything better now that he feels Arin’s tongue slide light and wet against him.

Jack’s stomach does flips. The sensation of Arin eating him out is like nothing he’s ever experienced before. One of his hands involuntarily knocks papers off the desk while the other flies into Arin’s hair, balling it in his fist and tugging, trying to ground and quiet himself. Arin’s tongue dances and kneads against his hole, Jack feels so oversensitive. He can feel precome oozing out of his slit in a fat pearl dripping down his shaft. Arin licks it up and Jack can see sparks behind his eyelids. Arin’s tongue starts prodding and fucking into his entrance, sending Jack’s head spinning, tossing back and forth along the desk as he lets out a litany of curses.

Jack grabs the base of his dick and squeezes. He’s trying so hard to prolong everything, but he’s so keyed up. He can’t resist the urge to stroke himself slowly while Arin pulls his cheeks apart with his thumbs and tongue fucks him in earnest. “Fuck- oh Fuck- Arin. Yes. God yes, that’s so good. Fuck yer gonna make me come. I’m gonna come- _fuck_!” Jack’s head hits the desk hard as his eyes clench shut tight and he’s coming all over his stomach and his own hand. He’s whimpering and panting, overstimulated as Arin keeps wiggling his tongue inside him. He has to tug at Arin’s hair and beg him go come off. “I’m gonna die, Arin, fuck, please.” He warns him and Arin smiles as he pulls off of Jack.

Arin looks up at Jack, half naked and panting against his desk, covered in his own come. His hair is wet, collarbones glistening with sweat, his shirt sticking to his lithe body. “Fuck and I didn’t think you could get prettier.” Arin moans, standing up on shaky legs. Jack lets out something between a pant and a laugh as he wipes the sweat from his forehead. Jack offers a hand to help Jack to his feet, to help clean him up with the tissues on his desk and get him dressed again.


End file.
